


Medicinal cuddles

by Messyfruit



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: (hopefully) wholesome fluff, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddles, Fluff, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 13:03:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9124987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Messyfruit/pseuds/Messyfruit
Summary: Armin's caught the annual flu and Eren ditches football practice to take care of him (wholesome fluff with little plot).





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moricat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moricat/gifts).



> This is my very first fanfic and I'm very excited to share it with anyone and all who care to give it a read! Please enjoy!

It was late fall. Trees were starting to shed their colors, thin coats of snow were becoming a daily thing and the most spirited of people were making themselves known by way of premature Christmas lights. This was perhaps Armin’s favorite time of year, but then again, he would say that about all months of the year; all seasons had their wonders, he thought. Fall, for instance, brought his birthday, shared umbrellas, the best weather for fishing and eventually the promise of Christmas. Unfortunately, fall also seemed to be relentless in its mission to bring Armin his annual flu. Sure as clockwork, two weeks into November and he was bedridden again, red-nosed, feverish and periodically sneezing over the sound of some daytime TV program that was doing a poor job of passing the time. He was hardly surprised by now, but he’d be lying if he said he was used to it. Yet, though his body ached, it was as always the stoppered nostrils that got him begging for an end to his suffering.  
“Why me?” he lamented nasally, looking at the ceiling for answers. Sighing at the lack of salvation, he pushed his pack of Kleenex out of the way and reached for his phone on the nightstand. Classes were finally over, he saw. Sadly, it was Thursday, which meant his boyfriend would be at football practice just about now. The realization made Armin lean his head deeper into the pillow and sigh with dramatic passion. One of his nostrils gave a low sympathetic tooting noise in response. 

Armin saw Eren at school every day and usually after dinner as well, but after two days out of school he was starting to feel deprived of boyfriend-time – and with this damn flu, he really wanted some love and attention to feel better. Because of this, though well aware that Eren would be unable to answer right away, Armin still unlocked his phone and texted: 

_‘How was math class?’_

Then he tossed his phone aside on the bed and picked up the remote to turn the TV off; he wasn’t paying attention anyway. Hoping to nap away some time until Eren could answer, he turned on his side and curled into a ball under the blankets. Just as he got comfortable, though, his phone buzzed, and he quickly decided to abandon his plan of hibernating to reach for it. Sure enough, the text was from his boyfriend. 

_‘Hmm. Your grandpa home?’_

Armin had to breathe out a raspy laugh at the question. 

_‘In town. Why? He your new best friend now?’_

Rolling over on his back, Armin found himself smiling up at his phone, flue forgotten for a moment. 

_‘Har har’_

Armin wasn’t instantly sure how to reply to that, though he knew he wanted to keep the conversation going. After some time mulling it over, he was about to settle for something about feeling replaced, when there was a tap at his second story window. Looking over, he made a start before realizing that the hooded, huddled figure clawing onto the outside of the windowsill was his boyfriend.  
“Eren?!” Armin shot up and pushed his blankets aside. “What are you-“. He didn’t finish his sentence as he crossed the room instead, opening the window and letting the shivering boy inside. He cast a short incredulous glance down at the yard below the awning before closing the window and turning to Eren who was all smiles.  
“Surprise?” Eren chuckled at Armin’s slightly accusing expression, teeth chattering. He set down a grocery bag next to his school bag and brought his hands up to push down his hood before ruffling snowflakes out of his bangs.  
“I thought it was the cat! Why on earth did you climb up here with that bag? And in the snow! You could have slipped!” Armin barked without intensity, moving in to hug Eren as soon as he unzipped the wet hoodie.  
“Didn’t want to make you come downstairs to unlock the door, since your grandpa’s not here.” Eren said simply, hugging back and leaning down to smile into Armin’s hair. Armin chuckled hopelessly at the explanation. He gave his boyfriend’s sides a small pinch, but scolded him no further.  
“How do you feel?” Eren asked solemnly.  
Armin considered it for a moment before replying, face smooshed against Eren’s ever-warm chest: ”my throat hurts, my body’s aching, I feel feverish and all I want is medicinal cuddles from my boyfriend.” That earned him a low chuckle in response. 

When they pulled apart, they gave each other a once-over like they hadn’t seen each other for months, taking in everything. Armin thought Eren looked like something out of a romance film; hair a lovable mess, nose and cheeks lively red from the cold, dark green hoodie dripping with melting snow, and a smile that seemed to say ‘I’m here to tell you how much I love you’. Certain that he himself was a way less delightful sight – still in his PJs and with bed-hair and a runny nose – Armin took Eren’s hand to avert his attention. “But what about practice?” he asked, suddenly bashful as he offered the grocery bag a fleeting glance. He was no fool; he could tell Eren had ditched practice for him, and judging by the soda and chips poking out of the bag, he deduced Eren intended to give him all the love and attention he had been dreaming of just minutes prior.  
“Meh. They’ll make do without me. I’m already their best player anyway. Don’t need the practice.” Eren winked. It wasn’t completely true – he was more like third best – but Armin didn’t argue. “Besides,” Eren continued, kicking off his dripping sneakers and placing a hand on Armin’s lower back to lead him back to bed. “My sick boyfriend needs me.” 

Telling himself that Eren was too good for this world, Armin followed the other’s lead without a second thought. He got into bed, pulled the blankets up to his chin and was about to shuffle over to make room, when the other started tucking him in. Armin frowned and gave a confused look. Eren seemed to understand.  
“No, no. I’m not here to laze around. You need soup, that’s what you need!”  
“Soup?” Armin raised an eyebrow. Eren wasn’t exactly the best cook. Though, Eren seemed to have thought of that, as he stepped away and reached into his grocery bag, pulling out a can of pre-made chicken noodle soup. He held it up, dangled it by his wrist and looked quite triumphant.  
“Ta-da!”  
“My hero,” Armin laughed heartily – until his voice broke and rasped to a halt. He made a wounded grimace and rubbed his throat.  
Eren reached back down and dug into the bag again, talking to the ocean blue carpet as he did so. “Yup. And it sounds like I’m not a moment too early… Here.” He straightened up and tossed a lollipop at Armin. It landed on his chest with a quiet thud. Before Armin could snake his hands over the blankets, however, his self-appointed nurse came over and climbed onto the bed, picking the lollipop back up. “Wait, actually, let me do it for you.” He undid the wrapping and leaned down to give Armin a tender kiss before holding the lollipop to his boyfriend’s lips. “It’s the kind that makes your tongue blue,” he said enthusiastically; they both loved that kind, especially after their discovery last summer: the color could be transferred with enough deep kissing.  
“Um. I’m not sure it’s a good idea that we make out while I’m sick, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”  
“Nonsense,” Eren chuckled. He rolled the stick between his thumb and forefinger, candy brushing Armin’s lips. “I’ll take the risk if it comes to that, but this is for you anyways. Take it.”  
Despite not being able to breathe through his nose at all, Armin didn’t have the heart to decline the lollipop. Accepting the candy and pushing it against the inside of his cheek, he looked up at his boyfriend and smiled, mirroring the expression of genuine love he saw there.  
“Thanks.”  
“No problem. You can suck on that till I’ve heated the soup up for you.”  
Satisfied with himself, and with eyebrows wiggling, Eren pushed off the bed and grabbed the soup can. They’d always taken care of each other whenever either of them got sick throughout the years, but this was the first time Armin had fallen ill after they became a couple, and it seemed to him like Eren had decided to kick the nursing up a notch; he appeared almost jittery – maybe even nervous to get it right? Armin contemplated telling Eren not to fuzz, but ultimately decided not to discourage him as he watched and giggled at his boyfriend blowing kisses all the way out of the room. 

Waiting for the soup didn’t feel too insufferable after that; Eren left the doors open on his way to the kitchen, so his voice carried back to Armin’s room as he sang along to his favorite band. Armin even thought he detected the tapping of dancing feet from the floor below. The mental image of Eren doing pirouettes and high kicks in-between stirring the pot made Armin’s chest tingle with a radiant sort of happiness. Or maybe Eren was river dancing? Head banging? Well, most likely, he was just flailing around quite clumsily, like he used to do, Armin concluded. But he preferred to imagine that his boyfriend was doing pirouettes. That’d be the cutest. 

Images of Eren dancing quickly occupied all of Armin’s mind and he eventually found himself daydreaming deeply about the two of them slow-dancing together. They had yet to actually do that, he realized, and he suddenly ached for a chance to give it a try. That’s when he remembered that the winter dance was coming up soon. Eren wasn’t particularly fond of those, and they hadn’t really talked about going, but he thought he pictured them on the dance floor now, both in tuxedos and matching breast pocket flowers, arms around each other for everyone to see. Eren would probably step on Armin’s toes a few times, but Armin wouldn’t mind; he’d just smile and whisper to him that it was all right. The day would be perfect. Magical, in fact. And they’d finish each song with a long, passionate kiss. 

A creak broke the spell and Armin was quite suddenly back in his bed, head heavy with fever. Eren was elbowing the door agape, soup in one and hand and two empty cups in the other.  
“Someone ordered soup?”  
Armin did a double take as he realized he’s been too far gone to notice the time – or even the music stopping. He sat up and gave a guilty smile as if Eren could tell what he’d been daydreaming about. The pillow got a proper fluffing before he leaned his back against it and pushed the blankets down around his waist. Raising his hand, he said: “that’s me”. Courtesy of the stuffed nose and achy throat, his voice came out as a syrupy squeak that seamed to soften Eren’s features.  
“You’re cute, you know that?” Eren said softly, dropping the joking attitude. He came over and placed the bowl in Armin’s lap, kissing his cheek in the same motion. His comment struck Armin as particularly heartfelt and it made him blush. He bowed his head and puckered his lips to fight a shy smile.  
“Even like this?” he asked.  
“Even like what?” Eren reached out and carefully pulled the lollipop from Armin’s mouth. There came a low pop as it passed his lips.  
“You know,” Armin continued, blushing slowly deeper as his voice became hushed. “Icky and sick.” He pushed some locks behind his ear and tilted his head to reveal his face.  
“You’re not icky,” Eren said firmly, lips pressing together in a decisive frown. He put the wrapping back on the lollipop and placed it on the nightstand before standing up. “And besides, everybody gets sick…” He swept the groceries and the school bag from the floor and came back to the bed. “Careful. I’m coming in.”  
Armin couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed with the underwhelming argumentation but he didn’t let it show. He grabbed the bowl and lifted it as Eren shuffled to get comfortable in the bed next to him.  
“Yeah, but-”  
“No buts!” Eren cut in quickly. He held out a spoon and chopsticks as he said it and when Armin grabbed them without arguing further, he set out to pour them both some soda. There was a long pause between them where the only thing that could be heard was the cups being filled and Armin quietly slurping the noodles. Then Eren sighed. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. His face lost the tight expression he didn’t realized he’d made, and he turned to Armin with eyes full of care. “I’m not great with words, not the way you are. That’s why sometimes when you hint at stuff or say stuff like you’re not pretty or great or awesome or whatever, I don’t know what to say and I stress out. But you’re literally the best thing that ever happened to me, so don’t doubt how great you are, ok?”  
They locked eyes and Armin listened. He nodded slowly but remained quiet while he examined Eren’s face. He saw the truth there, clear and open: honesty, love, belonging. His stomach felt warm in a comfortable sort of way, but it wasn’t due to the soup, he was sure.  
“Thing is,” Eren continued as he shifted to lay a feather-light arm across Armin’s shoulders, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. “I love you so much it should be a crime-“  
Armin snorted and turned away to grab and cough into a Kleenex. He couldn’t help but give a careful laugh once his throat was cleared. Sensing the lightened mood, Eren joined in for a few moments before he nudged Armin carefully and said: “no, but seriously. If loving you is a crime, lock me up for life.” He sighed and leaned in to nuzzle his hair. “I love your laugh. It makes me happy… I love your hair. It’s so soft – even when it’s all messy like now. And your eyes? Man, your eyes! They make me feel things, like, truly feel them. Even when I think I’m done with everything, all you have to do is look at me, and I remember why I keep going.”  
Armin locked eyes with him when Eren pulled back, letting the words sink in. He was sure his eyes were turning glossy; he felt the familiar prickling sensation that always accompanied tears. “… Oh, Eren,” he squeaked. It wasn’t fair to him how Eren thought he wasn’t good with words, when nobody could fill him with life like he could.  
When their prolonged eye contact became too intense, Eren leaned in and kissed Armin on the cheek before he tore away and leaned over the edge to pull the school bag onto the bed. He seemed to have taken Armin’s warning about make-outs and contagion to heart after all. “Anyways,” he said a little loudly as he wrestled the unwilling zipper. There was a badly concealed smile on his lips that told Armin he was happy with himself. “Eat. Your body needs it.”  
Armin bowed his head and smiled down at his food, cheeks red with more than flu, head fuzzy with more than fever and chest aching with something that definitely wasn’t illness.  
“Thank you, Eren…”  
“Don’t mention it.”  
When the zipper was conquered, Eren extracted his laptop from the bag and opened the screen slowly and with care – like Zelda’s Link would open a chest, Armin mused, certain he heard the music play in Eren’s head.  
“I signed up for one of those free trial subscriptions at Crunchyroll for you. I know they have anime.”  
“Aw, that’s so sweet of you!”  
Armin decided not to tell him he had already seen everything of interest on Crunchyroll. Besides, he thought he could be up for a second viewing of anything, as long as he could cuddle with Eren while watching. 

After deciding on a show, the two boys leaned back against the headboard and watched the first episode in silence while Armin slowly finished his food. The heat from the soup was making his nose runny again and he kept his head tilted back while his hand came up to wipe at his nose with paper tissues between every mouthful. Sitting up was starting to hurt his head, too, but he powered through till there was only a few spoons left, before throwing in the towel. He sighed deeply, then, Kleenex swiping across his upper lip.  
“Thanks for the soup, Eren.”  
“You’re welcome.”  
His boyfriend took the bowl from his lap and pushed it onto the nightstand. “Maybe you should lie down.”  
“Yeah, I think I will…”  
Armin followed the suggestion gladly, sinking under the covers with a tired yet hearty exhale. He curled up like he always did – like a kitten, Eren would sometimes remark – and squirmed until he was lying flush against Eren’s side, face resting on his thigh. This was a well-known gest between the two; an open invitation for Eren to play with his hair – an invitation he accepted without a second thought: he ran his fingers through the length of it, humming a song Armin didn’t recognize. Then he twirled some locks around his pinkie and sat still in thought like that for a moment.  
“Hey, Armin…?”  
“…Yeah?”  
“I love you.”  
Armin tilted his head with some effort to look up at his boyfriend. Searching his face, he smiled; he adored how raw and earnest Eren allowed himself to be at times.  
“I love you too,” he whispered. 

Eyes heavy, forehead throbbing and nose stoppered, Armin rested his head on Eren’s thigh again and registered only warmth and joy. He thought he could fall asleep like that, as his boyfriend’s hand massaged his scalp again, carefully, lulling. He knew Eren had meant for this to be a night-in with chatter, movies and chips, but Armin was content just resting comfortably like this right now – and Eren seemed to understand as he reached over to pause the show and close the computer screen. Armin’s eyes fluttered shut, instantly sleepy, but the other’s low voice broke the silence again, tender with an effort.  
“Oh, almost forgot. I have something for you…”  
The bed dipped as he leaned to one side and pulled something out of his back pocket.  
“Here.”  
It was a folded piece of paper with an almost symmetrical heart on the front, meticulously traced and colored. Armin regarded it with lidded eyes for a moment before reaching out to accept it. A blush betrayed his secret guess; was it a card? He pushed it open using one hand, and read the message written in calligraphy: 

_‘Dear Armin._  
_You can’t dance. I DEFINITELY can’t dance._  
_But do you want to go to the winter dance with me anyway? I’d love to have you as my date._  
_Love,_  
_Eren’_

Armin was quickly grinning, feeling all but miraculously healed as he read the note once, then twice – and then yet again, for good measure. He didn’t know Eren knew calligraphy – well, if the inconsistent form was anything to go by, he still didn’t truly know it. A “how to”-video would be Armin’s guess, but it didn’t matter. The effort meant more to him than soulless perfection ever could.  
“Please say yes.” Eren mumbled above him, his hand stilling in his hair. Why he’d be nervous was beyond Armin.  
“Of course I say yes!”  
He hugged Eren’s leg with a bit of strength and couldn’t resist the urge to squeak in delight.  
“Great!” Eren exclaimed, paused, and then laughed like he was embarrassed. “You asked me how math class went. Well, you’re looking at it. So,…”  
“I love it.” Armin assured him, giggling low and kissing the paper before resuming his relaxed position on Eren’s thigh. “You’re the best.”  
“The best after you,” Eren corrected him. Armin didn’t have to look up to tell that he was smiling; there was a certain shrillness to Eren’s voice that was only brought about when his chest inflated with either joy or pride – or a lovely mix of both.  
“Mmm,” was all Armin replied with, content to let the argument of whom was better, rest with a vague hum. 

When Eren resumed his brushing of Armin’s hair a few moments later, it didn’t take long for both of them to fall into a quiet lull, and eventually, Armin’s breathing became deeper as dreamland swept him away. He was sure he’d awake in good health from mere happiness, but if he didn’t, at least he'd have Eren there with him– and that was the greatest joy of all.


End file.
